The Incubus System Chapter 1431. Rules and Law II
The Incubus System Chapter 1431. Rules and Law II
A small breath escaped her.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just… there. The kind of breath someone lets out when something slips past their control for half a second before they pull it back together.
And yeah.
She pulled it back together fast.
Her gaze sharpened again, posture straightening just a fraction, like she’d remembered who she was mid-conversation.
“I will remind you, Ethan,” she said, voice steady, measured. “I came here to observe you.”
There it was.
Back to business.
Back to roles.
“I want to know if you are evil or not,” she continued, eyes not leaving mine. “And I want to become a bridge between you and my husband.”
I nodded slowly.
“I know.”
And I did.
That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it?
Evaluation.
Judgment.
A walking, talking moral scale wrapped in a queen’s body.
I almost said it.
Almost.
The words hovered right at the edge of my tongue.
‘Your husband is the problem, not me.’
Yeah, I wanted to say that.
So badly.
But I didn’t.
Because yeah… even I knew when to shut up.
Rare skill. Still developing.
So instead, I exhaled quietly and shifted my weight slightly, hands still in my pockets, gaze steady but not confrontational.
“But I said that because…” I paused, scratching lightly at the back of my head, searching for the least stupid way to phrase this. “Here in the human world… marriage usually needs love.”
Yeah.
That sounded weird coming out of my mouth.
Even I could hear it.
I huffed softly, shaking my head a little.
“I know I’m the last person who should be talking about that.”
That got a reaction.
Small.
But real.
Her brow lifted just slightly.
“I mean…” I went on, rolling my shoulders like I was trying to physically shrug off my own hypocrisy. “I’m an incubus. I sleep around. I have… what, more than a dozen women at this point?”
I rubbed my face lightly, then looked back at her, expression more serious now.
“I get how that sounds. I do. But can you imagine that?” I said, voice quieter. “I’m the least qualified person to talk about love… and even I’m saying something feels off.”
I didn’t push it further.
Didn’t need to.
The implication was already sitting there between us.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Honest.
She stepped closer.
Not aggressively.
Not seductively.
Just… closer.
Enough to narrow the space.
Enough to make it feel intentional.
Her eyes studied me again, slower this time.
Deeper.
“Tell me, Ethan,” she said, tone shifting just slightly, something sharper slipping into it. “Do you love all your women?”
There it was.
Direct.
No escape.
No deflection.
I didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes.”
Her lips curved faintly.
Not a smile.
Not really.
More like… a test.
“That is a lie.”
I tilted my head.
“I’m not lying.”
Silence stretched for a second.
I could feel it.
The weight of that statement.
Because yeah.
On paper?
That sounded ridiculous.
Stupid.
Unrealistic.
But I didn’t back down.
“I didn’t sleep with them just for s*x,” I continued, voice steady. “I won’t pretend I didn’t start like that. Some of them? Yeah. At the beginning? Probably.”
I shrugged lightly.
“But then…”
The words slowed.
Not because I didn’t know what to say.
But because I actually had to think about it.
Feel it.
“…I started to care.”
That came out quieter.
Real.
“Like them,” I added, almost under my breath. “How do you share a bed with someone, day after day… and feel nothing at all?”
That one lingered.
Hung there.
Unanswered.
And for the first time since this conversation started…
She didn’t immediately respond.
Her gaze didn’t waver.
But something behind it… shifted.
Just slightly.
Not agreement.
Not disagreement.
Just… consideration.
“…Marriage is a contract,” she said finally.
Flat.
Firm.
Like a statement she’d repeated enough times to make it truth.
I didn’t argue.
Didn’t correct her.
Didn’t push.
Because yeah…
We were coming from completely different worlds.
Different rules.
Different expectations.
Different definitions of what mattered.
I lowered my head slightly, letting out a small breath.
“I guess we just have different angles, huh?”
It wasn’t sarcastic.
Wasn’t dismissive.
Just… honest.
She didn’t like it.
I could tell.
Not because she reacted.
But because she didn’t.
Her expression settled again into that composed, queen-like calm.
“I am the Queen of Light,” she said.
Simple.
Absolute.
“I do what I must.”
Duty.
Again.
Always duty.
I nodded.
Once.
Twice.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t challenge.
Because arguing with that?
Pointless.
It wasn’t something you broke with logic.
It was something carved into her.
Built into her.
So instead, I shifted slightly, glancing at the floor for a second before looking back up.
“Just one more question, ma’am.”
A pause.
She studied me again.
“What is it?”
I hesitated.
Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to ask.
But because I knew the answer might annoy me.
Or worse.
Make sense.
“If your husband loves Gabrielle…” I started, watching her reaction carefully. “Why did he marry you?”
There it was.
The question.
The one that had been sitting in the back of my head since she told me about him.
The one that didn’t add up.
Her expression didn’t change immediately.
But I caught it.
That tiny delay.
That fraction of a second.
“Because the rules said so.”
Rules.
Always rules.
“And Gabrielle…” she continued, voice steady. “She refused him.”
I exhaled slowly.
There it was.
Messy.
Complicated.
Stupid in a very… royal kind of way.
“I see…”
And I did.
Didn’t mean I liked it.
But I understood it.
Enough.
“That’s all I wanted to know,” I said quietly. “Thank you.”
No sarcasm.
No attitude.
Just… done.
I stepped back.
Turned.
And walked toward the door.
There was this weird… pressure sitting in my chest.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Just… something heavy.
Something I couldn’t quite name.
“…Yeah, no kidding,” I muttered under my breath.
Because what the hell was that conversation?
My hand pushed the door open, the hallway noise spilling back in, grounding me a little.